Literaturbrevier

Alan Sillitoe: The Loneliness of the Long-distance Runner

The governor would have a fit[Anfall] if he could see me sliding down the bank[Böschung] because I could break my neck or ankle, but I can't not do it because it's the only risk I take and the only excitement I ever get, [...] scratching myself to bits and almost letting myself go but not quite.
It's the most wonderful minute because there's not one thought or word or picture of anything in my head while I'm going down. I'm empty, as empty as I was before I was born, and I don't let myself go, I suppose, because whatever it is that's farthest down inside me don't want me to die or hurt myself bad.

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[...]but the quietness I trotted[trotten, traben] into between two pickets[Pfähle] was like opening my eyes underwater and looking at the pebbels[Kieselsteine] on a stream bottom, [...].

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